Postman

I am locked in an eternal struggle with the postman.

This is an entirely one sided battle, the postie has no idea this is happening.

It stems from a phase I went through when I was pregnant when I was completely unable to answer the door if someone knocked. Usually it was the postman with a parcel as I did a lot of online shopping so that I didn’t have to leave the house.

I’m not really sure who I thought it would be at the door although on several occasions I did think it was the police needing to tell me that the Northern one had been in an accident. Regardless of whoever I thought it was I didn’t want to speak to them.

Combine this with the fact that I was usually unshowered, with hair resembling a bird’s nest, wearing the Northern one’s PJs and wrapped in the duvet there was no way I was answering the door.

Most of the time I wasn’t even out of bed.

On the rare occasions that I was up as soon as I heard I knocking I would hide, usually by locking myself in the bathroom. If there wasn’t time to run away I would either hide behind the living room door or under the duvet on the sofa. My heart would hammer, I would feel sick and dizzy and I would be trying not to have a meltdown into a full blown panic attack.

If I was still in bed I would end up under the duvet crying at who ever it was to go away and leave me alone. I didn’t so this if I was downstairs, I was too scared he’d hear me.

I’m no longer afraid of the postie but hiding from him has become a bit of a habit, probably an indication that my mental state is maybe not as stable as I think. He knocked today to deliver a box of craft supplies I’d ordered but instead of answering the door and receiving my parcel I hid on the landing and peered round the bannister.

This is not exactly adult behaviour on my part.

Also, I don’t exactly want Squidge either telling people at nursery that Mummy is afraid of the postman or actually thinking the postman is scary.

Not after he did so well with Santa.

I think I might need to work on this.

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